The Rose
by Fuzzy Blue Slippers
Summary: [Slash] In a move meant to gain Marluxia's favor, Vexen steals a certain rose and presents it as a gift. [MarlVex]
1. Brief Visit

**A/n: **First chapter is a prologue, next one will be longer, I promise :)

* * *

"Naminé, I have a task for you."

For her credit, the girl didn't flinch as dark matter materialized in an eruption of shadow and reaching tendrils, licking tauntingly at her sandaled feet. She kept her eyes down on her drawing pad as the accompanying hum escalated then dimmed into whispers before disappearing completely, emitting a man in a dark cloak, his face shrouded by the drawn hood.

"Yes, Marluxia?"

He didn't speak right away, choosing instead to walk calmly around her chair, the sharp clack of his boot heels loud in the undecorated room. She knew he was watching her like a hawk, though for what she couldn't hope to guess. Intimidation tactics didn't work on her much anymore, and he knew it.

Then, at last, he came to a stop in the exact same place he had arrived, his arms crossed over his chest. Still, her head remained tilted downward.

"I need you to rearrange Vexen's memories."

At that, Naminé quickly looked up. "I'm sorry?"

"You heard me," he remarked simply. "I don't think I should have to repeat myself."

She bowed her head. Her fingers were clutching tight to her pad, and though she wanted to ask why, she held her tongue. He would never tell her, anyway; he'd just use her curiosity as an excuse to punish her. "How far back?"

Marluxia mused for only a second. "A couple days. Follow the chains concerning the Beast's rose and myself. You have free reign," he added, summoning a portal as the girl bit into her bottom lip, "to change as much detail as possible. But don't break him."

With that he stepped back into the writhing mass and left, as quickly and abruptly as he had arrived.

Naminé raised her eyes to stare at the space he had occupied, confused. She could've sworn… that there was a hint of affection in his tone.

And it wasn't directed towards her.

* * *

**A/n: **I started work on the next part, but a little encouragement is nice -innocent smile-


	2. Brief Meeting

**A/n1: **Sorry if the prologue confused anybody, I should have noted that it takes place hours after the meat of the story, haha.

Anyway, I think this story will be a bit longer than I intended (don't you hate it when that happens?). I originally wanted 2-3 chapters, but it's looking to be double those numbers.

So here is the official chapter 1. I hope you enjoy, and to my fellow Americans, happy 4th tomorrow ^^

oOo

Normally, the Round Room was a place of somber contemplation.

The Order would come in, sit in their high backed thrones, and stare moodily at one another until the Superior began speaking, and even then he spoke in cold detachment best reserved for reading a death verdict.

It was quite possibly the most boring part of the day. Nothing exciting ever occurred (unless a new member had been found and was put on display for them to ogle), so it was quite strange for Vexen to materialize in his seat and find himself in the middle of a campfire story.

Well, he used the term lightly, considering there was no fire, no tents set up and no handholding. All eyes were turned towards one being as though he were the mouthpiece to some higher power. Considering his usual relaxed tone of voice and the rather mesmerizing way he moved his hands about, it wasn't difficult to see how Xaldin held everyone's attentions.

Axel was quiet for once, Zexion wasn't trying to hide behind his Lexicon, Demyx was listening with his mouth halfway open (well, that wasn't _too_ strange) and Larxene wasn't plotting strategic ways to frighten the Nocturne once the meeting was adjured. Even the great Xemnas himself listened intently, his chin tucked into his fist and his other hand rhythmically drumming along the armrest, his eyes alight with intrigue.

It was a momentous occasion to be sure.

"The rose, my friends," Xaldin was saying softly, his blue eyes focused on something just out of his reach, "is not an ordinary rose."

It was a simple statement, the concluding decadence of his speech, but instead of staring in mystified awe, the blond's eyebrow cocked up along with a scoff of skepticism.

Really? They were starstruck by a silly little _flower_? Was he seriously the only one around with a brain anymore?

Naturally, Marluxia was gobbling it up like the gobbler that he is, but the others? Luxord? Lexaeus? Xigbar? _Saïx_? Surely those men had enough common sense to not be _enchanted_ with a fairytale—or so he believed.

When he looked about in exasperation at faces stony with concentration, he was sorely disappointed. It was as if they had all been put in a trance, and Xaldin was their puppeteer; he resisted snapping his fingers to see what would happen.

"It doesn't wilt or decay in the way you think," the Lancer continued, oblivious to Vexen's thoughts, "nor does it require soil or sunlight. No, for years it has remained in full bloom, as red and tantalizing as fresh spilt blood. As though suspended by string, it hovers and creates its own brilliant light, forever casting a diluted glow upon the cold stone walls, a living creature the likes of which we cannot understand."

He paused, his hand bunching into a tight fist, and like any enraptured audience, more than quite a few of the Organization leaned forward, their own hands gripping tight to the armrests of their seats. By then Vexen was a _bit_ more interested, if only by a tiny margin.

Magical plants were definitely more attention-grabbing than regular ones, after all.

Xaldin slowly lowered his fist, and for a brief moment, his teeth flashed in an ironic smile. "And the master keeps it housed in a glass case. A _cage_," he spat, as though the very notion offended him. But he settled down fast enough, and similar to Xemnas, rested his cheek against his palm, his smile more permanent, if not sarcastic. "If I had a heart, I'd feel sorry for the poor thing."

The ensuing silence indicated that that was all he would say, and before anyone could move or mutter a word, their Superior chuckled, his eyes leisurely closing. "A fine tale. I can't imagine it was easy catching a glimpse of it."

"Oh no, sir," the smile widened, "not at all. Roxas could tell you all about that; he was my partner in crime, after all."

When quite a few attention spans shifted to the youngest member of the group, a red blush touched upon his pale cheeks. It didn't help any when Axel shot him an encouraging thumbs up.

But before he could speak (even if he wanted to), Xemnas waved him off. "Yes, I'm sure it's all very fascinating; another day, perhaps. What I have to say is much more important. Now, I'd like to make myself _very_ clear." He stared directly at Xaldin as he spoke, his gaze penetrating and steely. "I can see that you want to take the rose for your own, but I must forbid it."

"Forbid it?" The acidic words dripped off his tongue with disdain, and if they had physical bodies, they would have burned large holes in the floor, nice and deep.

"That is, what I said."

Vexen stroked his chin with his thumb, not even bothering to hide his smirk. My, things were getting more interesting… definitely more worthwhile than mindlessly listening to an elaborate tale woven about the dreadlocked man's latest mission.

Enchanted flowers… pah!

"If you steal from him, he'll undoubtedly follow you here."

"And how is this a problem?"

"You do not understand his… persistence," the word slithered like a hushed whisper, though it could be heard clearly by everyone present. The attentions of the rest of the group were just as riveted as they'd been before, yet Vexen couldn't tell if it was bloodlust or if they were genuinely into the argument.

"He is a mindless creature," Xaldin sneered, "Set only on primal instinct. Do not tell me you _fear_ such a thing?"

Xemnas merely gazed at him, unblinking. He didn't seem inclined to answer.

In fact, the next words were spoken from his left, indignant and more than challenging. "You dare question the Superior?"

"Awe, look at that. You riled the attack dog."

Vexen pressed his fingers against his temple as attention turned to Axel, who seemed quite proud of himself for disrupting what was a serious moment. He could almost countdown to the exact second when chaos would soon erupt. The entire group was just so utterly predictable.

"Mind your business," Saïx snapped, his nose turned up in annoyance. "Nobody asked for your opinion."

Axel's emerald gaze glittered, the corners of his crafty lips easily upturned. He enjoyed the attention. Predicable. "And I'm sure Lord Xemnas didn't ask you to 'stand up' for him."

_Tell me he didn't just use air quotes…_

"Know your place!"

"You wanna take this outside, buddy?"

"Ugh, heartless men are _so_ predictable." And there was Larxene, joining in on the 'predictable wagon'. But damn it if IV didn't agree with her!

"As if! I'm the most unpredictable dude around here."

"Excuse me, but _I'd_ like to get back onto the topic as to _why_ stealing the rose is a bad idea." Unlike before, Xaldin's voice didn't harken peace.

Everybody just seemed to chip in with their own opinions, ideas, hopes, and dreams. Someone even asked if they could install a pool, and no, it wasn't Demyx. In fact, aside from Vexen, he and the Graceful Assassin were the only ones listening. And as a matter of fact to that fact, Marluxia hadn't even budged so much as an inch.

His posture was just as immaculate as the minute Vexen had arrived, back straight, legs primly crossed and hands clasped together in his lap. That charming face of his still held… well, blissful wonder, to put it bluntly, and for all intents and purposes, he appeared to be having an out of body experience.

Could it be he was still lost in the Lancer's story, oblivious to the commotion around him and Axel's careless fireball zooming past his face? The vacancy in his eyes was actually quite unnerving, and Vexen would be hard pressed to forget what he was witnessing, that through Xaldin's words, the Assassin became a thrall, and through the patient weaving of speech, could vividly see the rose in haunting detail. He was more than likely staring at it now, or wishing that he could. For him, to have such a thing would be a fine prize, indeed.

"SILENCE!"

Vexen didn't realize he was smirking until Xemnas abruptly took control of the entire room, his booming voice making even the loudest Nobody shut up with an embarrassing squeak.

Bodies settled back in their thrones with a huff, and once the irritated shuffling of clothing ceased, the enraged Superior turned hardened eyes to the Lancer, both of his hands clutched tight to the end of the armrests in what was probably a white-knuckled grip.

"I forbid you to even so much as think of the Beast's rose. You have no idea the trouble it would bring-"

"If he comes here," Xaldin countered coolly, "he'd be outnumbered thirteen to one-"

He was quickly hushed by Xemnas pounding his fist angrily against his seat. "You are a fool, Dilan, and I will not continue this discussion any further. You so much as think about the damned thing, and your punishment will be the likes of which you've never seen."

"Touchy," Luxord muttered, only to put his hands up in surrender at the death glare shot at him.

Once he was certain his point was made clear, Xemnas dismissed the group and left via portal.

Saïx, too, fixed number III with a stern glare. "I'll be watching you, closely."

"Suck up," Axel hissed, and before the Diviner could lay into him, he promptly left.

Other than obscene grumbling by a certain few, the others left on a quieter note, until it was just Vexen and the eerily quiet Marluxia. If he had a notepad on him, he would have gleefully jotted down notes about it.

The most interesting tidbit, was how easily swayed the neophyte was by shiny objects. Even if the rose had been a non-living thing, a sculpture or a painting, he'd still want it for his personal collection. He wouldn't keep it cooped up in a vase, let alone shut behind closed doors. He'd flaunt it at every chance he got, exerting his natural desire for beautiful things.

The rose was… precious to this Beast, but in the hands of Marluxia? Precious wouldn't even be able to describe it.

And just think, if someone were to present it as a gift, the man would be so entirely indebted, and—

Oh.

Now there was an idea.


End file.
